


Confession

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fix-It, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 03:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2010108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't "Agent Ward and I have been having sex." It was "I can't stop thinking about you." Fix it fic for 1.12</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to Marvel and ABC.
> 
> Okay so this is my very first full length Philinda fanfiction! Absolutely huge thank you to suallenparker for persuading me back to the show and getting me hooked on Philinda. It's been a blast so far, cannot wait to continue! Also, thank you to whattamen whose beautiful gifset from 1.12 inspired this fic. Thank you very much! Also, in this story Trip is on the team from the get-go, not Ward. So there's that. 
> 
> Anyway I hope you all like it, and please note the rating. There is a damn good reason.

I

 

Phil Coulson hadn’t been himself recently. How could he, with the file that Fury had given him weighing heavily on what was left of his heart? But getting off the bus had been a good idea, especially as it meant it was just him and Melinda working an op, like the old days.

 

They were currently in Lola, tucked down an alleyway, dressed like any other couple holidaying in Mexico. He liked seeing her in civilian clothes: the dark jacket, the low cut shirt revealing more skin than normal. Phil could lose himself in old memories of past operations and pretend like it was ten years ago and they were in Mexico City tracking down a drug lord.

 

But Melinda was chatty, and she had never been that. “Alright what’s up?”

 

She turned from the shop they were staking out to glare at him. “You tell me.”

 

“You’re talking. More than ever.”

 

The look didn’t disappear. “Cos you’re not.”

 

He didn’t let it drop. Something was wrong. “And you suddenly became active on the Skye investigation?”

 

“She’s proved herself. Stepped up in a big way. For our team. For _you._ ”

 

Melinda had always kept things close to her chest, especially since Bahrain. But he knew there was more to this little field trip than just rewarding Skye for good behaviour. “Is that it? Or is it just to distract me?”

 

“Both.” She paused. “I know you’re having a hard time believing what…”

 

“They changed my memories,” he interrupted, voicing what his damaged mind had been clinging to since he had read that file. “Who’s to say they didn’t change more?”

 

The doctors had removed his memories of that operating table, replacing it with a beautiful island. He’d gone surfing on that island, read three books and drunk his weight in fancy drinks with frilly umbrellas. But it had all been a lie. What else was fiction? How many missions, how many _memories_? Had he really been interested in Captain America ever since his father had bought him his first comic book? Or was that all implanted in his brain? Phil glanced at Melinda, watched her take on his concerns. Had any of their history been real?

 

“I say.” Surprisingly, he actually felt comforted by those words. “I know you Phil, and I knew you before. You know I’d be the first to go down that road if I thought it led somewhere.” She paused. “Do you believe me at least?”

 

Phil kept his gaze on the shop, his mind flickering through memories of the two of them sitting in cars similar to this one, in hotel rooms, on balconies. As partners, as friends, as occasional undercover lovers. When he looked back on his history with SHIELD, he kept coming back to her. His memories were linked with Melinda May. No matter how much they tried, Phil knew they wouldn’t be able to entangle her.

 

“Do you?”

 

“Yes,” he shot back almost immediately, tearing his gaze away from the shop to look at her. If she had faith, then he had faith. He knew she’d always have his back.

 

“Good.”

 

“But I’m tired of secrets. So I’m glad we’re here. We need to root out all the secrets.”

 

He’d finally been told the truth about what had happened to him after the Battle of New York. They were finally here, getting the truth about a secret that had similarly haunted Skye. His job relied on intelligence, on secrets. Yet he found there were some he could swallow and some he couldn’t take. He wasn’t sure how many more of the latter he could deal with.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

 

Phil nodded, only realising what Melinda had actually said a beat later. He turned to her, his mouth falling open. “What?”

 

But her gaze was elsewhere. “I got him.”

 

Suddenly the hunt was on, and memories of familiar operations came flooding back. Melinda went in one direction, he went in another. An empty bus hadn’t distracted him, nor had the prospect of uncovering Skye’s past. Melinda May declaring her feelings? Well if she wanted him distracted it had worked.

 

II

 

For a mystery that had taken Skye so many years to uncover, they had unravelled the truth in less than ten minutes. As promised, they had dropped Lumley off in the middle of nowhere; giving him a fighting chance at losing himself again. He and Avery had done well by Skye, and Coulson wasn’t about to hand him a death sentence for protecting her. The drive back to the plane was quiet, Phil himself lost in thought. Strangely not about the revelations concerning Skye.  

 

_I can’t stop thinking about you._

 

His mind kept playing those six words over and over again, trying to find some clue as to what they meant. Sometimes they came out breathy, like she was about five seconds away from pushing the driver’s seat down and having her way with him. Other times the words got jumbled, or they came out exasperated; like she was worrying about how much energy he spent going over that file. But for the first time since he had been told the truth, he had a new distraction.

 

But then he’d always found Melinda May distracting.

 

As he drove Lola up the cargo ramp, Phil tried to work out his next course of action. If Melinda was worried about him, all he could do was reassure her that things would get better with time. If she felt something else for him, well that filled him with anxiety and fear and the most twisted jolt of anticipation he’d ever experienced.

 

Phil killed the engine, swallowing them both in the silence of an empty plane. Neither made a move to get out, instead Phil focussed all his energy on gripping the steering wheel. His gaze did draw towards Melinda, sitting beside him in the passenger seat looking as calm as usual. How could she remain so steady when inside his head he was screaming?

 

“We should probably get out,” he said, his voice strained.

 

Beside him, Melinda made no move to leave. “We probably should.”

 

His hands still gripped the wheel, anchoring himself to the car. The longer the silence bounced between them, the less Phil believed that Melinda was simply worried about him. He could feel the sweat building between him and the steering wheel at just the _thought_ of what that might mean.

 

“Did you happen to hear what I said in Mexico?”

 

Did she really think they’d be sitting like this if he hadn’t? “I did.”

 

“Do you want to discuss it?”

 

His eyes shifted from FitzSimmons’ lab to her, her hands resting still on her thighs and her expression impassive. She acted like they were discussing a new case or a troubling order from SHIELD HQ. Anything other than her having thoughts or feelings or whatever about _him_. He stared harder, trying to identify some sliver of emotion that would tell him how to proceed. He’d always been good at reading her, but since Bahrain she’d kept her thoughts to herself.

 

“You can’t stop thinking about me.” It was a statement and yet Melinda nodded, further cementing that this wasn’t worry. It was something else entirely. “In what way can’t you stop thinking about me?”

 

Melinda’s lips thinned, and for a moment Phil wondered if he would even get an answer. “In little ways. I’ll see FitzSimmons bicker and think back to us at the Academy. When we’re out on ops I’ll catch a reflection in a mirror or see a street sign and I’ll be right back to you and me some other place twenty years ago.”

 

He nodded, a smile finally breaking out on his face. He did that too. He’d get lost in remembering a particular moment, or see a brunette run down a street and think of all the times he’d watched her do just that. Sometimes he even found himself laughing at a joke she’d told fifteen years ago. It was just another extension of how entwined they were in each other’s lives.

 

“Sometimes I think about kissing you.”

 

His hand slipped on the steering wheel, his sweaty palms making it uncomfortable to hold on. So he gripped tighter, the knuckles of his hands turning white. “You do?”

 

Phil risked a glance in her direction. Her own gaze was fixed on her hands. His chest was tight; he only managed to breathe when she answered his question. “You’ll be talking too much or telling one of your jokes and I’ll just want to kiss you. Grab your tie, your collar. Anything to have you closer.” Despite her calm demeanour, Phil could see her own knuckles showing. “It’s only got worse since you came back.”

 

“It hasn’t been that long…” Melinda finally looked at him, her eyes startlingly wide and desperate. He understood, then. “Oh.”

 

The air was stale, cold; the hum of the plane producing dead background noise to what would be one of the most important conversations of his life. Phil tried to take on all the information he’d received in the last few minutes. His mind stuck like a broken record on the image of kissing Melinda. It kept skipping back and forth of her grabbing his tie and her lips pressed against his. She was the only thing on his mind until the needle jerked off and his brain got stuck on one single point.

 

“We used to have lunch.”

 

Melinda’s brow furrowed, her eyes narrowing. “What?

 

His hands finally slid from the steering wheel and his whole body twisted in her direction.  “Lunch. Every time I was in DC we would go to lunch and we’d talk. Walk. _Every time_. Thinking about me has got worse since New York? Since I died? You were thinking about me like this before?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“You should have told me.”

 

Phil finally felt the need to get out of his car. He slammed the door shut and headed for the staircase, needing fresher air or noise or _something._ How many times in the last few years had Melinda sat across from him and wanted to kiss him? How many times had she been sitting at her desk and thinking about him, whilst he had been all the way across the world thinking about her?

 

“Telling you wasn’t an option,” her voice called back. “Back then you were with Audrey, you were _happy._ I wasn’t going to interfere with that by announcing feelings you didn’t want!”

 

Phil stopped by the staircase, his hand reaching out to close around the cool metal. He turned back and saw Melinda outside of Lola, standing all too close and yet a million miles away. He was angry and upset at a lot of things right now. But not for the first time all he could focus on was Melinda May.

 

Leaving the staircase, he took a step towards her. “Didn’t want? _Didn’t want?_ Melinda, I’ve had feelings for you since the Academy. They’ve never wavered, or faltered. I just thought that, after everything, you feeling the same wasn’t an option.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

Smiling, Phil closed the distance between them. His hands were shaking as he cupped Melinda May’s face.  He’d kissed her before, but never as _him._ “What I’m saying is-“

 

Behind them, something beeped. Phil still held Melinda’s face, still held her within kissing distance. He opened his mouth to begin again but the beep continued. Melinda’s hand crept up to touch his.

 

“Whatever it is, if it’s waited this long then it can wait a few more hours.”

 

He didn’t want to wait that long. He wanted to be selfish for once and finally be able to kiss the woman he loved. But they had a job to do, as they always did.  

 

“I’ll get the plane ready.”

 

Not for the first time that day, he watched Melinda walk away with still so much left unsaid between them. But this time there would be another conversation, another moment. For the first time, he knew that her feelings were just as strong as his. Next time, he wasn’t going to let her walk away.

 

III

 

He’d been in hotel bars across the world: dinghy things with dusty bottles of bourbon; expensive joints with a piano in the corner. This one, about an hour south of the Academy, was one of the better ones. After everything that had happened - with Melinda, with Skye, with the Academy - the last thing Phil had wanted to do was lie in bed and hear the air recycling. So he’d organised a night off. They had earned it.

 

In a booth by the window, FitzSimmons and Trip were exchanging Academy horror stories, prompted by their recent operation. Melinda was at the concierge desk, discussing room keys. Skye slid along the bar, looking surprisingly chipper for someone who had been through all she had.

 

“Hey, can I get a beer?”

 

The bartender came over, took one look at Skye and frowned. “ID?”

 

Skye faltered for a moment before Phil slid the badge across the bar. They had a few SHIELD agents in here every now and again, legacies visiting their children or honorary Professors. The guy took one look at the badge and pulled out a cold one for Skye. He handed it to her, still frowning.

 

When he left, Skye clinked her bottle with his tumbler of whiskey. “Thanks, AC.”

 

“You’re welcome. He carded FitzSimmons, so don’t feel too bad.” They both looked over their shoulders to see FitzSimmons chuckling at whatever story Trip was telling. Phil would put money on the story being a freshman prank. “How are you feeling, now, after everything?”

 

Skye hesitated and put her drink back on the bar. “Okay. It’s a lot to take in. But I’ll be fine.” She picked up her bottle again and took a harsh swallow. “Hey, whilst we were at the Academy Trip gave me the grand tour. I think I would have liked Communications.”

 

“It’s a good place. I had a couple of friends there when I attended.”

 

“Talking about that, Trip showed me some pictures from _way_ back when you went to the Academy…I have never been so happy in all my life to discover that you never had long hair.” Skye giggled, and Phil managed a laugh. “So you and May go way back, huh?”

 

Phil nodded, his hand reaching for his glass. “Right back to the beginning.”

 

“I saw pictures of you two. She was cute, wasn’t she?”

 

His eyes stole over the bar to the desk where Melinda was still talking to the concierge. He couldn’t keep his eyes from her. He couldn’t help but watch her fingers deftly move hair from her face, or watch the curve of her mouth as she talked. He’d been unable to think of anything but her for months now. “She still is.”

 

“Agreed. So, did you and her…”

 

“ _Skye,_ ” he warned, not wanting to have this conversation with her. But he was glad to see how quickly she had bounced back. Melinda used to be able to do that, until her string had been cut.

 

Phil looked over to find Melinda gone, and only turned back to Skye when he felt a nudge in his side. “Come on, are you telling me that _nothing’s_ ever happened between you two? You two with the long looks and shared facial expressions?”

 

“Goodnight, Skye.”

 

Phil waved goodbye to the three at the table, engrossed in another story. He watched long enough for Skye to join them. He had a good team there. Better than expected. For now, though, the last thing Phil wanted to think about was work. There was a woman upstairs who had been overdue a kiss for far too long.

 

Walking up to the second floor where their hotel rooms were, Phil struggled with his key card. He needed to lose the jacket, splash some water on his face. Stop his hands from sweating. He slipped the card in the lock, heard it beep. His peripheral caught something to his left and he looked up to see Melinda with her own card in hand. She offered him a smile before pushing the door open.

 

Phil felt his heart stop as it didn’t close all the way.

 

Abandoning his own hotel room, Phil practically ran across the corridor to Melinda’s. He pushed the door open with the heel of his hand, poking his head into the room. Melinda was by the window, looking out over the view. He closed the door with a click, loud enough for her to know he had joined her. He took off his jacket, folded it and left it on the back of a nearby chair. He wiped his hands on his trousers as he walked forward, his breathing slow and steady as he approached.

 

He felt like that eighteen year old cadet again, nursing his strongest ever crush.

 

But this wasn’t a crush, it was requited. And as he put his hands on Melinda’s arms, he felt her whole body sigh under his touch. He moved in closer, cradling her body with his own. “We’re finally alone again. So, where were we?”

 

“You had something to say.”

 

“Oh yeah. I remember now.”  Phil reached up and moved Melinda’s hair off her shoulder. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to the length of her neck. “We were talking about your feelings.” Another kiss, this time higher up. “Then my feelings.” His lips brushed just below her ear. “ _I love you_.”

 

He felt Melinda shiver in his embrace, and his other hand stroked the length of her arm, feeling goose bumps on her skin. “Is that okay?”

 

She turned in his arms, and suddenly they were face to face. They had never been this close. _Never_. He took her all in, from her darkening eyes to her parted lips. She gave nothing away, not until he felt the tug of her fingers around his tie. “It’s more than okay.”

 

Suddenly Phil felt himself jerked forward, Melinda’s grip around his tie dictating his direction. They’d kissed before: pecks on cheeks, long furious exchanges with tongue and teeth. All for show. This was languid, delicate, both of them taking their time to burn every sensation into their memory. No one would steal this from him. His first kiss with Melinda May. Her lips, softer than he’d dreamt about. Her hands around his collar so tight, her nails sharper than expected. The sensation of her tongue pressing against his bottom lip.

 

Breathing wasn’t important, and he felt it was a poor excuse to move away from Melinda just to do it. But as he did he got to witness a smile he hadn’t seen in years. The hands that had gripped his neck now touched his face; lightly, as if expecting him to disappear under a firmer touch. “ _I love you too._ ”

 

Phil buried his face in the side of her neck, shuddering as he felt Melinda’s nails scratch his scalp. He needed a moment to hold her, to make sure she wasn’t going to disappear either. He’d never thought he would hear those words, not from her, not after everything they’d been through. But here they were, through fire and ash. Phil found her hand, linking their fingers together. Entwined: from the moment they met to the moment they stood here now.

 

“So, where do we go from here?” he whispered in her ear, still pressed against her. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want this to end.

 

He felt Melinda’s nails run along his nape, teasing his skin until he let out a low sigh. “Well, there is a perfectly good hotel bed behind us.” She ran her hands through his hair, teasing the short strands and encouraging more kisses along her neck. “Clean sheets, plenty of space for us both.”

 

Phil pulled away, his breath shuddering as he tried to control where his mind was going. “Are you sure? We could wait?”

 

“Haven’t we done enough of that?”

 

He nodded dumbly, powerless to resist as Melinda threaded her fingers through his tie and led him to the bed. He watched, his eyes taking Melinda in greedily, as she undid the lacings of her jacket and let it drop to the floor. Sliding both hands over his shoulders, Melinda pulled herself on top of him. Her thighs straddled his, her arms slipped around his neck so her fingers could continue to play with his hair.

 

Phil’s own hands travelled up her back, marvelling at the warm skin he could feel through her thin shirt. “Have you thought about this? Us, together like this?”

 

Melinda didn’t answer; instead she used her position to slowly press them down onto the bed linen. As his back hit the cool sheets, Phil thought about how long it had been since he’d last made love. Long before New York. He’d thought about Melinda though, in his office with the lights off and her presence still clinging to the room. He reached up and cupped her face, his hand brushing away the dark strands that threatened to encroach on his view.

 

“I love you.”

 

Lying on top of him, bodies still wrapped around each other, Melinda started undoing his tie. “You said that already.”

 

“I kind of like saying it.”

 

His tie, a gift last Christmas from Director Fury, ended up somewhere on the floor. He was soon distracted by the presence of Melinda’s hand on his chin, tilting his head up for another kiss. It was soft, gentle. A stolen kiss and hopefully one of many.

 

As she pulled away, Melinda turned her attention to the buttons of his shirt. Phil had the great pleasure of watching a beautiful woman toy open his buttons one by one. Her hands felt hot on his skin, her touch firm as she mapped his chest. Together they slid his shirt from his shoulders and threw it in the direction of his tie. Her mouth overtook her fingers, leaving a trail of hot kisses all the way from his throat to his belt.

 

Melinda kissed her way back, her mouth meeting the ugly scar on his chest. She didn’t flinch, didn’t run. She pressed a lingering kiss to the tissue before shifting straight back up to attack his mouth. Unlike before this kiss was rough, furious, _desperate._ Phil took the opportunity to spin Melinda onto her back, pinning her underneath him. As he looked over her, her lips darker than usual from all the kissing, he saw pain in those beautiful brown eyes.

 

“Melinda…”

 

“I love you too.”

 

He was here. She was here. They’d survived Bahrain and New York and a thousand other things the world had thrown at them. They were here, in this hotel room together. That was worth celebrating. “I like hearing that.”

 

Smiling, Melinda reached for the hem of her shirt. His hands joined hers, tossing the fabric away. Pulling her up to meet him, they both sat and explored. Phil concentrated his mouth on her neck, finding a spot just behind her ear that caused the most _exquisite_ sound to come out of Melinda’s mouth. His hands stroked along her spine, finding marks in her skin he’d long since forgotten. He pulled the strap of her bra down, exposing even more flesh for his eyes and his mouth. He nipped the skin of her collarbone, worrying marks with his tongue. He wanted to lick every drop of sweat from her skin, find all the places that would make her scream.

 

“Touch me, Phil,” Melinda moaned in his ear, her hand grabbing his to slide along her bra. He looked down and watched her direct his attentions toward her breasts. He could feel her nipple harden under his fingers, pressured by Melinda’s own to squeeze it tight. When he looked back at her, she was biting the inside of her mouth to stop herself from crying out.

 

“Does that feel good?” Phil asked, his hands eager to experiment on his own. He twisted her nipple slightly, increasing the pressure until he felt Melinda’s nails bite into the back of his neck. “Take off your bra. I want to do that with my teeth.”

 

She reached around and unhooked her bra, pulling it off and chucking it over her shoulder. Her nipples were dark against her skin, standing to points in the cold air. Phil ducked his head and licked one, feeling it pucker further against his tongue. He tried what he wanted, grazing the sensitive flesh with the edge of his teeth. Rewarded with a clamped down moan, Phil continued. Whilst his fingers massaged one breast, his mouth attended to the other. It didn’t take long for Melinda to be bucking against his torso, her back curled up against him.

 

The sight of Melinda May experiencing so much pleasure at his hands was almost enough to undo him completely. As he continued his ministrations, his spare hand reached down and adjusted his trousers, trying to relieve some of the pressure he felt in his pants. A dirty chuckle echoed in his hear, just as he felt Melinda’s teeth bite his earlobe.

 

“Take your pants off.” Her hand ran through his hair again. “I need you.”

 

Nodding, Phil followed her orders and immediately went for his belt buckle. Reluctantly he moved away in order to roll his trousers down his legs, kicking them to the floor. He returned to Melinda almost immediately, who had also lost her pants. Phil pressed himself against her, moaning as his sensitive cock brushed against her panties. Melinda’s arms curled themselves around his neck again, her legs following the same procedure. She was hot against his cock as she rubbed herself against him.

 

“ _God, Melinda!”_ he cried, slamming his teeth down on his lip to stop himself from screaming down the place. It had been far, _far_ too long for him. “I need you, I need you right now.”

 

With another bruising kiss, Melinda pressed him right back to the sheets. Jumping off momentarily, Phil had a great view as Melinda went to the duffel bag she’d brought from the bus. When she returned, a shiny foil packet was clutched between her fingers.

 

“Expecting company?” he joked, a hard task to perform when there was a practically naked Melinda May on top of him.

 

She snorted. “I was hopeful.” Using both hands, she pulled his boxers down his legs. She balled them up and threw them away. “Hopeful for you.” Using her fingers, Melinda tore into the foil packet. Pinching the tip, she then proceeded to roll it down his cock. He moaned, unrestrained, as he felt Melinda’s tight grasp on his skin.

 

“Always hopeful for you.”

 

Phil watched as Melinda hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and pulled them down her legs. He continued to stare, his mind in overdrive, as Melinda slid down onto his cock. She was tight around him, wet and aroused and he had _done that to her._ It took him a moment to adjust to the feeling of being inside Melinda May. Another memory he wanted burnt into his brain so it was impossible for it to be stolen.

 

Leaning over him, Melinda slid her hands up his chest so her body was stretched out in front of him. She rocked against his cock, moving in shallow thrusts against his body. She hooked a hand around his neck, clinging to him as she continued to move against him. Phil could barely breathe, could barely focus on anything but the feeling of being inside Melinda. He witnessed the expression on her face every time his cock brushed against her clit. It was beautiful.

 

As she continued to slide him in and out of her, Phil’s hands moved along her body. One hand teased the curve of her spine, moving like a river as she curved in pleasure. The other reached between them and found Melinda’s clit. She was so very wet, and he started to rub the side of her clit with his thumb, one of many explorations he intended to undertake.

 

“ _Phil!”_ Melinda cried out, her body jerking upwards. He continued to touch her there, marvelling at the shape of her body, the expression on her face. Her own touch grew firmer, her movements shorter, harder, her body practically slamming down against his cock.

 

His thumb slipped from teasing the side of her clit to direct contact and Melinda’s body shot up in pleasure. Her face screwed up in ecstasy, his first name falling gloriously from her lips. Her body tightened around his cock, and Melinda continued to ride him until he felt his own orgasm explode within him. His hands moved to her hips, his fingers digging in to stop himself from falling too far into pleasure.

 

As he came down from his climax, he was distantly aware of Melinda pulling away from him. Instead of leaving, instead of going to clean off like he expected she might, she just curled her body against his side. She shivered occasionally beside him, her eyes fluttering shut. She was incredible.

 

Disposing of the condom, Phil re-joined Melinda on the bed. She was resting on her arms, her front pressed against the linen. His fingers danced along bare skin, his lips leaving a kiss on her shoulder. He couldn’t believe how beautiful she was, and how much he was in love with her. He felt he had to say the words once more, just to make sure she understood.

 

Before he opened his mouth, he felt her finger rest against his lips. “I love you too.”

 

He chuckled, happy to rest on the sheets with a warm and sated Melinda next to him. He’d wanted this for so long, and now he had it. It seemed like another fantasy, like he was going to wake up in the middle of the night covered in sweat. But Melinda was real. Her touch was real. Her kiss, her feelings. It was always difficult when two SHIELD agents fell in love, although it had happened before. They would make it work.

 

“I know I said I was done with secrets, but maybe just one more?”

 

She kissed his mouth, his chin, her hand stroking his temple. “I think I could live with that.”

 

The room smelt like sex. The noise of the hotel drifted in under the door. There was a gentle hum of cheap air conditioning. Despite all that, his entire world was focussed on Melinda. Her eyes. Her lips. The scar on her collarbone she’d got their second year in the Academy. Things had been difficult since he’d got back, but Melinda had always been there for him. In his heart, in his thoughts, and now right beside him. As she should have been all along.

 

For the first time since he’d found out the lengths it had taken to bring him back, Phil Coulson was glad he was alive.


End file.
